Little Women: Planetary Alignment
by UndomesticatedSoA
Summary: Tig just couldn't leave Venus Van Dam alone. OneShot. Rated M for Tiggy Lemons.


**A/N**

**UndomesticatedSoA - Definition: A collaboration between Voracious Bitch and MuckyShroom, exploring the women of SAMCRO. Some characters are canon, some OFCs. Some situations are AU, some canon. If you want more info, just check out the bio.**

**Disclaimer: All characters, etc from Sons of Anarchy are the property of Kurt Sutter, FX, etc. We own nothing that you recognise from SoA.**

**Our OC's are our own.**

**Parental Advisory Warning: This piece contains bad language and sexual situations of a Tiggy nature.**

**A nod and a wink to Les Freaks. I know you've been waiting for this Ladies.  
**

**Thank you to LaughingWarrior for letting me borrow Viv briefly.**

**-o0o-**

**Planetary Alignment**

"Hey Tiger, had a feelin' you'd call."

"Can we...err...can we.. meet. You know, sometime?"

"No need to be shy sugar. You know I've been just dying to take you out for a ride."

"I was sorta thinkin' along the lines of somethin' the other way around."

"Whatever your pleasure baby. Just give me a time and a place and this girl will be there ready and waiting in breathless anticipation."

"How about I pick you up on Friday, say about three?"

"Gonna tell me where we're goin' Tiger? I'll need to make sure I'm suitably... attired."

"Wear somethin' you can ride in... on the back of a bike. You won't need your latex... this time. And my name's Alex, Alex Trager."

-o0o-

Alex Trager turns up on my doorstep on the tick of three o' clock. If that dirty, little biker is trying to make an impression by being on time, well, he is part way there. He'd told me to wear somethin' I could ride on a bike in, I'm sorta hopin' he meant his bike, although to be honest if that innocent, blond cutie Jackson wanted to take me to hell and back I'd have said yes in a heartbeat.

Who knew it'd take me two hours to pick the perfect outfit?! I was goin' against my own rules, goin' out with no idea whether this was truly a business call, and that made it hard to decide. Darlin' I have not been this nervous about a boy since Rory Masterson asked me to meet him behind the bleachers one Friday during our Freshman year. The ensemble I finally decided on involved denim capris, dark wash, a girl doesn't need to add extra pounds with acid wash that belongs in the Nineties when she can do it with chocolate; and a light knit Royal Blue sweater with those dainty little pearl buttons. Of course I left a few undone; my babies like to be appreciated. I should probably have picked somethin' sensible shoe-wise, who knew where we were goin', but I abso-southern-lutely can not be without my heels! I just can't walk in anything that don't have at least two inches, so I picked out some cute little white peep-toes with ankle straps and chunky heels. Unless he's plannin' on takin' me hikin' I don't think I'm gonna turn an ankle.

Oh! More brownie points for knockin' instead of just tryin' the door. My boy carries on like this I might just to start to think he's a gentleman. Oh and the sweet little baby has a spare helmet for me. Sigh, I had not considered helmet-hair when I agreed to this.

"Well hello Tiger. Bring your little tushie across the door a moment. I'm just finishing off. Kitchen's through there. Grab yourself a beer I'll be out in a hot minute."

Oh the poor little baby is so shy. He just nods at me before he heads into the kitchen. I'm lyin' of course, I am pretty much finished, but it just won't do for him to think I was waitin' on him. I head back into my master suite and add a squirt of Chanel. Number 5 of course, if it was good enough for Marilyn its good enough for me. I check my outfit one more time, make sure my babies are displayed to their best advantage, then I let him wait another five minutes before I go and look for him in my kitchen.

At first I think maybe he's not gonna be able to speak to me at all.

"Doll, you look...mouth-watering."

Well that was not quite what I was expecting, but it is a compliment, or at least I think it is.

"Why thank you Tiger. You're lookin' pretty... edible yourself. You gonna tell me where you're takin' me today?"

I'm not hopeful of an answer here. Pour soul hasn't been able to look at my eyes for two seconds together. He's starin' at my babies like he's willin' my sweater to just burst open. Givin' me looks like that, it just might. He scrubs a hand over his face like he's remindin' himself to behave. He really does look edible though; a black button-down long sleeve shirt under his club colours, jeans that I know are hangin' just right on lean hips, wallet chain catching the afternoon sun. I have a sudden urge, a sort of tactile Tourettes; I want to find out if that leather is as soft as its aged appearance would have me think. It's only sheer force of will and years of practice that has me keepin' my fingers to myself. I am not gonna tip him off this soon to the panty-burnin' effect he has on me.

"I...We...There's, ahhh, a fair, over on the other side of Lodi. I thought we might, ahhhh, maybe hit the ferris wheel, eat some cotton candy and hot dogs, and then maybe I could, erm, take you for a drink?"

Oh my Lord havin' this rough bit of leather speechless for me is gonna put me in a situation that will just ruin the line of my capris.

"Well Tiger that sounds just divine. Think you can win me one of those fluffy, stuffed toys?"

"Anythin' you want beautiful."

My Tiger's got this bright gleam in his eyes. It strikes me that I really should be careful just how much I tease him. I know up to a point that he's goin' to be putty in my southern hands; but he's also a man used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. Oh Lordy just the thought of all that masculinity is making my pretty, shaved balls tighten. He couldn't take his eyes off me in Shamu's office, occasionally he even managed to look at my face. I could see he was just burnin' up with jealousy when I was riding that doped up whale, let alone when I took that young gun into the back room. I do like 'em young and sweet, but there's somethin' about this shaggy, old wolf that makes my nipples tighten so hard they could cut glass. Deep breaths. We need to keep this moving along before he loses control. Who am I kidding; we need to move this along before I lay myself out like a buffet on my imported marble kitchen counter-top.

"Well what are we waitin' for Tiger?"

He stands back to let me precede him to the door. When we get there I shoo him through so that I can lock up after grabbing the adorable leather jacket I picked up on sale last time I paid homage to the shrine of Neiman Marcus. When I get to his bike he's already astride it. Oh my! Those long legs, those firm thighs either side of that big... machine. If I had a vagina I would be drippin' wet right now. As it is, mentally repeatin' my Grammy's recipe for Christmas cake over and over, is the only thing stopping me from endin' up in a very un-ladylike state. He hands me the spare helmet and as I click the fastening closed I'm gratified to find that when my fingers brush my cheeks they're still smooth as a baby's bottom, for now at least. He holds out a hand for me to help me balance as I swing my leg over this beast of a vehicle. A chivalrous biker, be still my heart! I hook my heels over the foot pegs and grip those hips that I have been dyin' to get my hands on. With a little pushin' on the pegs and a little pullin' I manage to get myself nestled tight up against him. If I'm not careful he's goin' to be able to feel just how happy I am about bein' this close. I am as surprised as all-together when he takes my hands gently by the wrists and wraps them around his stomach, but I take the opportunity to steal a feel of that muscular body under the shirt and leather.

I shuffle a little to get more comfortable, oh hell who am I kiddin', to get even closer; and as I do he throttles up. Oh the ever lovin' Saviour our Lord in heaven! I am pressed about as close as I can get to the hunk of man-meat in front of me, all I can feel is solid, muscled body up against me and under my hands and now the vibrations from the engine are runnin' through me like my favourite nine-inch turned on full times ten. There is no way on this green earth that I am goin' to make it to the end of the street without embarrassin' myself. I start runnin' through lists of ingredients in my head again as he twists the throttle some more. I shift a little and I would lay good money on there bein' a smirk on that handsome face as he guides the bike into the road.

Bein' on the back of Alex Trager's bike is the most exhilarating feelin' I have ever known that can be achieved fully clothed. Suddenly an image pops into my head of us both doin' this one warm summer's night, naked as the day we were born. I swear I feel the sap rising...one cup of almonds, two cups of raisins... I have to lift my face away from his back and the rich scent of leather, cigarettes and aftershave or I'm goin' to cause us to crash. Instead I pay attention to the town flowing past us like a multi-coloured ribbon and thrill to the feel of the wind rushin' past us. I give myself over to the sensory overload of the man in front of me, the bike beneath me and the world around me as we ride though town and out on the open road. Two cups of currants... Two cups of peel...

By the time we reach the field given over to parking on the edge of the fair and he stops the bike and knocks the kickstand into place I'm beginnin' to think that I might just have gotten control of my libido. If ropin' a steer in matin' season in a field full of heifers with a single thread is your idea of 'control'. Again he holds his hand out so I can balance as I swing myself up to standing. Not as gracefully as I would like to, mind you. I'm all for a good long ride but this has left me a little bow-legged. Been a long time since I could say that! I go up on tip-toes a couple of times whilst my Tiger swings himself off the machine. I am all about the multi-tasking so I'm stretchin' out my muscles whilst doin' some eyeballin' of a hot male, unclipping my helmet and fluffin' out my hair. Ahhh, with the sweet comes the sour. Helmet hair for the afternoon will simply have to be endured.

Alex holds out his hand for my helmet and after I've handed it to him and he's stowing it with his in the saddle bags I make sure that my ensemble is straight; it's usually the only thing about me that is! We can hear the noise of the fair from here; the electronic shrieks of the rides pumped along by the bass beat of whatever rock track is playing at each one, the tanoy yells of the carnies and the laughter and screams of people on the rides. When I look over at Alex to see if he's ready to head over I find he's been watchin' me. I win my bet with myself, there is a sexy smirk crooking those kissable lips and makin' those panty-dropping eyes glint. Since he looks like he's wonderin' what I look like naked I am blow-me-down a-mazed when he holds out his bent elbow for me to link.

"Shall we Doll?"

I know I am blushin' like a fifteen year old virgin. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, and other places. I resist the urge to fan my face with my fingers and instead occupy my hands with threadin' my arm through his. I am used to all sorts of reactions from all sorts of different men. I have been adored and I have been spat at and everythin' inbetween and beyond; but I do not think that I have ever in my life been courted.

Once our arms are linked he gently pats my hand with his and we set off across the grass. As we get closer I can smell the diesel used to power the rides, but that slowly gives way to the charred smell of bar-b-que'd, greasy food and sweet, sugary treats. We walk straight into the multi-coloured chaos of the late afternoon. Kids are runnin' everywhere, screamin' and laughin' so hard they're almost breathless, chased by harassed parents desperate to keep tabs on their offspring. The cacophony of noise is almost deafening, and the bass line of the songs is so strong it makes your bones thump. I love it! It is so alive and lively. If we're gettin' any odd looks from anyone ignorant enough to dish them out, they don't seem to be botherin' Alex none. I've been getting' 'em so long I barely notice anymore. I am who I am, if you don't like it you can suck my huge, southern cock!

Alex leads me over to one of the food stalls, one that's stacked with nothin' but psychedelic ways to rot your teeth, bring on diabetes and destroy your diet. He doesn't even need to ask me, he just raises his eyebrow at me and I nod. He buys us a big bag of neon pink candy floss. I might, just might, be able to fall in love with this man. He opens the bag as we meander through the fair. We link arms again and Alex holds the bag by the arm that mine is linked through so we can both take turns in pickin' the spun sugar out of it. I love cotton candy. It just melts on your tongue like it wasn't even there. I am suddenly having some very, very naughty ideas about what I could do with Alex Trager and a bag of cotton candy. We might have to buy us some more.

We finally stop at the Ghost Train. Oh goody! I know my smile is wide and bright. I just adore the Ghost Train; cheap scares are a good excuse to snuggle in the dark. I look at my boy and I know he's got the same idea. Since it's still daylight the queue isn't long. It'll be full of young bucks tryin' to cop a feel of their little ladies once the sun goes down. We squeeze into the little car, Alex lays his arm around my shoulders, and with a jerk and a shudder we're off.

As is usually the case with these old rides, every corner is taken at a jerk, throwin' us into each other, but I ain't complainin'. Once we turn off the front of the ride, into the warm, musty darkness and out of the way of pryin' eyes, Alex tightens his arm around me. I snuggle into his body, enjoyin' the heat emanatin' from under his leather. My face is close to his neck and I can smell his spicy cologne. I don't think I'm ever goin' to forget this smell, and I know I'm never goin' to find it on anyone else. Whatever he's wearin' is mixed so completely with the scent of him that it's become somethin' unique.

I tilt my head a little so my mouth is closer to his neck. I breathe against the delicate skin there. His arm tightens a little. I am literally lickin' my lips to get a taste of him. We barely even acknowledge the paper skeletons that fall down from the ceiling or the dummies in werewolf and vampire costumes that pop out from the walls on pneumatic pipes. I can't help myself, I dart my tongue out and quickly lick his neck. He is salty and sweet all at the same time. He is delicious and I can not wait to taste more of him. He stiffens when he feels my tongue, but he doesn't pull away. Instead he turns his head and captures my lips in a kiss that reminds me that passion isn't somethin' that always comes with a price tag, somethin' I'd almost forgotten. It's erotic beyond words. We're side by side, only touching where we're pressed together by the space within the small cart and where his arm lies around me. This kiss is all about our mouths, our lips, our tongues. His taste is intense, just like his blue-eyed stare and I can't get enough of him. I feel like I've been crawlin' across a desert and been presented with a flask of ice cold water. I am so thirsty for him. Just barely, I register that the darkness isn't quite so complete as before and I pull away before the car jerks round it's last corner, back into the sunlight.

We're both breathin' heavy as we clamber out of the cart. I manage to slyly make sure that my lipstick isn't smeared all over my face as we step down onto the grass. This time when we link arms I can feel a tenseness in Mr Trager that wasn't there before. A tenseness borne of unfinished business. I spot the ferris wheel and decide there is no better place in this wonderland where we can continue our little explorations.

We quickly pay our way into the ride, Alex slippin' the carny a little extra to ensure we have the cabin to ourselves. It's one of those with the enclosed cabins, half wood, half glass. I don't know why they're luggin' this big ole beast around the country but I am so very grateful that they are. Alex helps me up into the cabin like a true gentleman; holdin' the door open for me to enter first, offerin' his hand so that I don't trip. He treats me like I'm a little china doll, even though I am easily as tall as him, taller in my heels; my shoulders are just as wide and I know from the slight itch I am desperately trying not to scratch that my five o'clock shadow is beginning to peek through.

As the wheel creaks its way into its first revolution I decide there is no better time to seize the day, or the Trager in this case. I slide off the bench seat onto my knees at his feet. He looks at me with fire in his eyes as I make quick work of his belt and denim. Our bag of half-eaten candy floss lies forgotten as I pull... Oh holy Mary, Virgin Mother! It would be so un-chic to clap my hands like a giddy child, but that's what I feel like doing faced with all these inches of hard, throbbing Alex Trager. I settle for lettin' a huge smile cross my face before I do what I've been dyin' to do since I licked his neck.

This man is truly delicious. I would give up chocolate for the taste of this man. I know, I blaspheme, but it really is that good. It's ice cream and cookie dough; it's a cold beer on a hot day or a warm glass of red on a cold night. I would love to tease this man for hours, to make him beg and scream my name, but I know we don't have that much time in front of us. I slip my hand into his jeans so I can fondle his balls as my other hand grasps what little of his cock I can't fit in my mouth, 'cause you know I am one talented femme. Just the feel of that silken head hittin' the back of my throat makes me groan, and the vibrations in turn rip a moan from his throat and have his fingers tightening on the seat 'til his knuckles show white. If I didn't have my mouth full of Alex Trager I would smile. As it is I just keep suckin' and pumpin' and strokin' until his hips start thrusting unconsciously. I will be amazed if his grip doesn't leave permanent marks in the seat. I am not goin' to torture the poor man, not this time anyway, so I take him deep and swallow around him, using my throat as well as my hands, tongue and lips. The feel of it tips him over the edge and he unloads into my throat with a roar. I swallow everythin' he has to give. I would not spit if you paid me. I want every little drop I can get of this man.

I pull back and gently tuck him back into his jeans before makin' sure what's left of my lipstick won't embarrass us both. I hop back onto the seat, well, hop as much as I can given the raging hard-on in my capris, and grab the candy floss. I pop a pinch of the sticky cotton wool into my mouth. Alex' head is bowed, his chin on his chest as he breathes deeply; basking in the afterglow. He owes me and I do hope that he is goin' to deliver. That thought makes all sorts of bits get all sorts of tingly.

The ride finally jerks to a halt and with a deep breath he turns and gives me a look that I swear could start forest fires. The carny opens the door to the cabin, breaking our little spell momentarily. Alex pushes away from the seat and steps onto the platform, turning so he can help me out and keeping my hand as we make our way down the steps back into the grass. We link arms again but this time we're walkin' a little quicker. Alex seems to have somewhere in mind that he wants to be. I'm so horny right now that all the noise and colours fade into the background. They are all muted compared to the throbbing between my legs and the fiery ice pulsin' through my veins.

Before I know it he's pullin' me into a little photo booth, perching on the little stool and planting me on his knee. I could kiss this man! That is exactly what I do as soon as he's finished feeding coins into the slot. We slide straight into hot and heavy, gasping into each others mouths. I'm gripping onto his arms for dear life, feelin' like I'm bein' washed away in a tide of desire. When he starts rubbing my cock through my denim I nearly jerk off his knee. I can't stop my hips from pushin' against his palm as the standard four flashes explode one after the other. Alex rips away from me, panting, he feeds more coins into the hungry slot before turning back an' devourin' me all over again. I know we're not goin' to be in here long enough for him to pay me back properly for the ferris wheel, and besides, it's far too Forrest Gump for me to come in my pants. As the last flash bursts we pull part and try to gather ourselves.

"I will return the favour sweetheart." He gasps as he helps me stand on unsteady feet. We both have to... arrange ourselves so that we're not tenting denim.

I can't even speak. I am breathless and thirsty and feel like I am nothin' but pure arousal. I want to run my hands over my body and rub my body all over Alex Trager. We stumble out of the booth and collect the photos. Alex slides one strip into the inside pocket of his leather, the other he hands to me. I slide it inside my sweater, tucked safely into the pale blue satin of my right bra cup.

We are both havin' a little trouble walkin' as we lean on each other and do our best not to stagger. I tuck myself right into Alex' side in an attempt to hide the raging hard on that is surely visible, straining against my pants, despite my best efforts. After we've walked around a little more we've gained a small amount of control over our bodies, enough to relax a little. Two cups of cherries... Two cups of white sugar... I have no idea what happened to the bag of candy floss.

Alex is leading us back out of the fairground, but on the way something catches his eye and he changes direction. I'm still recitin' cake ingredients so I don't see what it is until we're right in front of it. It's one of those shooting game booths. Now, I was not born yesterday. I may not have seen Alex and his friends actually carrying guns, but I have seen the knives hanging from their belts, knives that are big enough to gut Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He wasn't wearing his colours the first time I met him, but the leather he's wearing today tells me that my boy knows how to handle himself and knows his way around firearms. I'm beginning to get all tingly again.

The current of electricity though my body intensifies as he takes the rifle the carny hands him. My boy knows his way around the big guns. It's obvious from his comfort and familiarity with the piece. He takes his allotted five shots and misses with all but the last two. He grimaces and from the way he brushes off the carny's fake cheer and commiseration I realise that something about the gun is skewed so that it's impossible to win all but the smallest prizes. The carny reaches for one of the palm-sized stuffed chickens lined up on a shelf, but Alex waves him back and hands him some more money. He settles the rifle against his shoulder, sights down the barrel and goes again. This time he's obviously takin' into account whatever has been done to the gun and he hits all five targets. The carny looks as though he's about to have a coronary. His jaw is literally hangin' open. He takes a good look at my man's leather though and decides not to complain too loudly. He very sensibly shuts his yap and simply pulls a huge stuffed unicorn down from the top shelf. He hands it to my man who hands him the rifle in return. As we turn and begin to walk away Alex hands the unicorn to me. He actually looks a little shy and that is just so adorable after such a display of skill that I want to get on my knees and do all manner of bad things to him right there and then. Since I do not plan on bein' arrested this afternoon I settle for givin' him a genuine smile.

"I'll take you for that drink now Doll."

Somehow he manages to get the unicorn into one of his saddle bags after he's taken the helmets out. Well, most of it. The horn is sticking out. I like that, seems sorta appropriate somehow.

By the time we arrive at the bar he stops at in Lodi I can barely think. I am still hot from our... activities at the fair, his display of marksmanship and the ride. All my arousal has become a deep throb, pulsing through my whole body. I can barely make conversation because all I can think about is whispering the low down and dirty things I want to do to him. The bar is dark and cosy and busy. There's a band on the stage in the corner playing bluesy rock. It sounds familiar and when I catch a glimpse of them through the crowd I recognise them. Leather, you can't forget a name like that when the group is made up of walkin' aphrodisiacs. I've seen them around in a few bars where I've been meetin' clients. The lead singer's voice is throaty, liquid sex. I wouldn't mind seeing those wild black curls laid out over my Egyptian cotton clad pillows sometime. Havin' said that, I wouldn't kick a one of them out of bed for leavin' crumbs on the comforter.

We find a table for two in the corner where we'll be undisturbed by the rest of the customers who are mainly watchin' the band do their thing. That young lady is certainly workin' it in her black leather pants. If I didn't have six foot plus of alpha male in front of me I would consider throwin' her the eye, but my attention is all on Alex Trager tonight. He returns from the bar with two beers apiece. I like his thinkin'. We're both obviously feelin' a little dry in the throat because we both drain half our first bottle in one long swallow.

We slow down our drinkin' a little and in our little dim corner of the world, cocooned by music and chatter, smothered in the smell of hot bodies and beer, Alex gently brushes his fingers over the back of my hand as it lies on top of the table. It's strange what a small touch can do to a body. Everyone knows about erogenous zones, places that you can pinch or stroke in just the right way and set a person aflame; but there are the unexpected places too, the ones that aren't obvious, that you don't know about until it happens; and it's as much about the right person and the right situation and the right timing as it is about the right touch. Those calloused finger tips brushing over the thin skin on the back of my hand and down my fingers are all of that. He's touched me much more intimately today, but this small caress leaves me breathless and burnin' all over again. I shift in my seat, desperate to relieve the building pressure.

With a gentleness I would not have expected of him before today he wraps his hand around mine and tugs me up with him as he stands. He leads me purposefully around the crowds to a corridor that leads off the main bar room. I realise his intent when I spot the signs for the facilities. He quickens his pace and pushes open the door to the little boys room with a hard shove. I am not complainin' hell I am almost in front of him. It's empty, but we slip into one of the stalls anyway. It wouldn't do to be interrupted at the critical moment. As soon as that flimsy little door is shut and locked behind us we are on each other; all hands and lips and teeth. We are nipping and licking in equal measure as we fumble to get into each other's clothing. I still have enough presence of mind to unbutton my sweater before Alex can pull it apart, sending the buttons flying.

I quickly slip the strip of photos from the booth into the back pocket of my capris so I can undo the front fastening of my bra. For a moment Alex pulls back, a look of complete awe on his handsome face. Then his eyes spark into life again and he leans forward. We are still fumblin' with zippers, belts and buttons as he takes one nipple into his mouth and begins to pinch the other between his finger and thumb. I feel the sensations right the way down to my balls and I arch back against the cool tile and have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning.

I finally get into his jeans about the same time he gets into mine. We both gasp as our hot hands wrap around our most delicate skin. The noise from the bar is just a low murmur in here, where we are wrapped up in our own little world, population two. I have to keep one hand grippin' his hip to keep our balance with me braced against the wall since both of his hands are busy on my body. My boy is returnin' the favour with interest! His grip is perfectly firm, gliding over the silk of me as I do the same for him; but of course we've both been practisin' this since puberty so I would expect nothin' less than an expert touch.

We are breathin' into each other's mouths, barely even rememberin' to kiss properly anymore, but he's still lavishing attention on my breasts with his busy fingers. I drop my head into his shoulder so I can bury my face in his neck and breath in that essence that is purely him. Our hips start to rock towards each other and I know he's as close as I am. He looks confused as I pull back and spin him around, but this part I know better than he does. I quickly position him in front of me, but slightly to one side, so he can still pump my cock with his fist as I stand behind him, and I can still pump his by wrapping my arm around his hips. I press my bare breasts into the leather, feeling the rough edges of the patches rub across my nipples and I can't help grinding my body into his. Almost... almost... nearly... there! We cum together, our jism painting the opposite wall of the tight cubicle with the strength of our climax.

All I can hear now is the blood poundin' through my head and all I can see is stars and flashes of light. The world could have ended around us and we wouldn't have noticed, we most certainly would not have stopped. Alex is relaxed back against me, breathing hard. The weight is comforting and pleasurable against my sensitive skin. I am so sated I feel a little sleepy. If we were in bed we'd be curled up like puppies snoring away right now. It takes some long moments but eventually the axis of our reality tilts back to level. Alex pushes away from me, but before he starts making himself presentable again he turns and leans into me, cupping my cheek in his palm, gently rubbing his thumb over the scruff of my emerging stubble. He kisses me. It's not the erotic oral tanglings of earlier; it's almost chaste and very romantic. He's saying thank you with this kiss and I am grateful. Some people get caught up in the moment, but fill up with regret and anger afterwards. Alex Trager is not one of those people.

Once we're fit to be seen in public again, and I have tidied my hair in the cracked mirror over the dirty sink, we make our way back into the bar and blend through the crowd on our way back to our table. Our beers are still there, seemingly untouched. Praise the good Lord in heaven. Without sitting we both reach for our second bottles and down most of the content as quickly as we did the first. Our eyes meet and there is a mutual nod of understanding. We both know if we stay here we're goin' to be asleep within minutes. I have absolutely no intention of waking up with my hair stuck to god knows what on the table.

Instead of offering his arm for me to link, this time Alex gently takes my hand as he leads us out of the bar and back to his bike. Now that I'm replete the ride back to my house isn't turnin' my pilot light up high. I can relax a little and just glory in the sensations. It's just the winding road wrapped in darkness, lit only as far as the beam of the headlight can reach. Once we've left civilisation behind, it feels like we're the only two people left on the planet.

We arrive at my home far too soon for my liking. The cold air has woken me up a little, but my limbs still feel heavy and sluggish. Alex walks me up to my door like the gentleman he is and takes the spare helmet from me; but just before he kisses me good night he pulls back, a strange look on his face. For a moment I am stunned. If he has a change of heart now I might not be able to stop my eyes from fillin' with tears of hurt. He turns and jogs back to his bike. I stand dumbly and watch him. My confusion turns into delighted understanding as he pulls that ridiculously large stuffed toy out of the saddle bag and tucks the spare helmet in its place. He jogs back to me and presses the unicorn into my arms before landing a chaste but firm kiss on my lips. My heart rate picks up a little. If this chivalrous biker isn't careful he's gonna be in serious danger of me fallin' in love with him.

"I had a real good time today." He murmurs.

"Me too Tiger." I whisper back.

He kisses me softly again and I retreat into the cool darkness of my home, but of course I can't stop myself from turnin' to watch him mount his bike and ride away into the night, leavin' nothin' but the faint smell of fuel and the lingering roar of his engine in the quiet.

Lordy I am gonna have some sweet dreams tonight!


End file.
